Apparently Birds and I Have a Thing Now

It seems my life has come full circle.

Last week, I shared a story about finding a helpless baby crow/raven/black thing and how it challenged my view of parenthood.

And as of yesterday, that’s all been flipped on its head again. By another winged creature.

(Is my life secretly a Darren Aronofsky film?)

Image

June and summertime are here in full force. TIME FOR NOMMING ALL THE FRESH STRAWBABIES!!!

Last summer, I caught the last 3 weeks of Driediger Farm’s berry season. I worked my butt off sorting berries, weighing berries, selling berries, standing in fields making sure other people properly picked the berries without STRAYING INTO THE GOSHDARN PARTS OF THE FIELD THAT ARE VERY OBVIOUSLY TAPED OFF FOR A REASON.

It was really fun.

I was overjoyed when they hired me back this summer, for the entire season. Strawberries, blueberries, raspberries galore. Juice-stained fingers and happy smiles and puppies.

Image

I am not even joking.

I got paid to do this for 10 minutes yesterday.

ImageImage

Image

Did I say this story was about a bird? That’s weird.

For approximately one hour of our shift, we go out to the fields with a cold water bottle (and a black umbrella if it’s really a scorcher) to walk up and down the rows, making sure all the berries are getting picked and the customers are happy.

Yesterday, I’d been fielding for 20 minutes, when I saw one of my co-workers walking towards me, holding a blue strawberry carton in one hand and covering the top with her other hand.

“Hey Carly, I’ve got something for you!”

I was excited. I thought maybe it was an ice cream bar we couldn’t sell because the wrapper tore prematurely, and she was protecting it until it got to me.

Image

Nope. Definitely not an ice cream bar.

“Some customers found him flopping around half-flying on the road, and we DON’T know where he came from, and we DON’T want him to get hurt, but we CAN’T have him in the market. Can you watch him until we figure this out, and make sure he doesn’t fly towards the road?”

Image

Obviously this face just screams “BIRD WHISPERER.”

So I held the box very delicately as I walked gently through the fields. He chirped constantly. Bro was MAD.

And then he started getting ballsy.

2014-06-12 10.54.01

One millisecond later, he pooped.

Β He tried to fly off of my hand into the trees and ended up just flopping into the field and squawking. It was pretty pathetic. I very quietly and subtly chased after him, saying, “No, precious! It’s not safe! Come back to me. GET IN THE BOOOOXXXX!!!”

Β We did this for a couple rounds. No one else in the field even noticed, so consumed were they in the passionate hunt for strawberries.

The third time he left the box, he fluttered onto my shoulder. Everything so happened so fast after that.

From my shoulder, he decided that my hair looked like it would make a nice nest, so he hopped onto my noggin and declared it HIS with much pomp and deliberation.

My feelings were a little muddled.

Oh, um. Okay. There's a tiny ruffled bird in my luscious locks.

Oh, um. Okay. There’s a tiny ruffled bird in my luscious locks.

Should I panic?

Should I panic?

Aww, look at the cute little baby squawk!

Aww, look at the cute little baby squawk!

OMG please don't poop in my hair too.

OMG please don’t poop in my hair too.

And then…(what I can only assume was) the MOTHER showed up.

She was flapping. She was dive-bombing. She was swarming. If her mouth hadn’t been bursting with fat, green worms, she would have been screaming motherly obscenities at me.

Now. I like birds. I really do. But if they start to do that flappy-screamy-possibly peck your eyes out business near my face, I always very calmly try to GTFO as quickly as possible.

This is it. This is how it ends.

I called my co-worker. “Baby bird is stuck on my head, and its mother found me, I’m pretty sure she’s angry, and Idon’tknowwhattodoHAYULLPP.”

She rushed across the field. Mother Bird gave up on me for a moment and soared into the nearest tree. Probably spewing out those worms to save room for my eyes.

Gracious Co-Worker untangled Baby Bird from my head, and he took off – as was his habit.

But this time — I kid you NOT — Mother Bird and another Bird swooped down on either side of Baby and helped him FLY into the nearest tree.

I don’t know if I almost passed out because my Personal Nightmare was over, or because I was pretty sure I’d just witnessed a Miracle of Nature.

And STILL, the berry pickers never noticed a THING.

It’s gonna be a good summer, my darlings. A gooooooood summer.

Advertisements

16 thoughts on “Apparently Birds and I Have a Thing Now

  1. WOW! That is VERY VERY the coolest thing.

    Once upon a time at the daycare, my co-workers came screaming in to me because a bird had flown into the room and crash-landed in the bin. She covered it over with a shirt or something and came to get me. It was a baby green woodpecker, and I took him out in the garden where he spent the morning yelling back and forth to his mama (who was in a tree beyond the end of the garden) and crash-landing off the fence. In the end I picked him up again, walked him down, out of the garden and put him on the tree where the mama-bird was yammering and he scrambled back up to her as quick as could be. He was amazing.

    Your birdie is GORGEOUS. I’m glad you had such an exciting time, and you were right – I do love this post.

    • It IS amazing, even though customers can be crazy when it comes to their fruit. It’s like a whole subculture I could probably write about.

      And that puppy…OMG. No words. A creature like her is on my bucket list now.

      Thanks for showing your smiling face!

  2. Aside from the mama bird wanting to peck away at our eyeballs, this was the cutest post ever. I love the photo with baby boyd in your hair with his mouth wide open πŸ˜‰

  3. Pingback: Behbeh Love, Part 2 | she's a butterfly, pretty as a crimson sky, nothing's ever gonna bring her down.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s